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cynthiafoustvenner

Runaway.

Sometimes when the going gets tough. The tough gets going.


Straight up leaves. Never to be seen again. Lost.


Sometimes, when we have to face ourselves, we swallow a pill that is so bitter, even we can't bare it. The taste so acrid it disgusts.


Pungent. Sour. Poison.


The view becomes so ugly we cringe at it when we look.


We turn away from the mirror.


We hate what we see.


We despise the reflection.


We fear for our future.


We panic at what we offer.


We wonder how we got here. We question from where we came. But we see. We acknowledge.


Yet, ultimately, we realize the changes needed. The person we want to see. The reflection we deserve. The image we want projected.


The prospects we have to offer.


The likeness we desire.


To take a deep stare into a potential abyss. But to see hope. To view our destiny. To crave optimism.


To want recovery.


To deliver aspirations.


To be undivided.


Whole.


Xoxo,

C.



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